A Young Boy's Journey: My Family Story of Citizenship

Just last week, I was in the laundry room of my dormitory waiting for my clothes to finish in the dryer. As I gazed around the laundry room, my eye drew to what seemed to be a coin on top of one of the washing machines. I picked it up and noticed that it was a quarter. "Just another plain old quarter," I thought. However, when I flipped it over to see the other side, the coin suddenly became interesting to me. The back of the quarter depicted a man, woman and a child holding an American flag on the docks of Ellis Island. A picture of the quarter is depicted below. 

Ellis Island in New York was the place where millions of immigrants would begin their new lives as citizens of the United States. There are an infinite amount of reasons as to why people flooded into the US. However, every immigrant's journey as an American would begin at Ellis Island.

As I looked with admiration at this coin, I began to think of how I came to be an American citizen. Later that day, I called my grandmother and asked her to retell me the story of my great-great-grandfather's coming to America. Tomas Demjancik, my great-great-grandfather, was originally from Russia where he lived with his family during the 1890s (exact years were lost in time). His life changed forever when members of Bolshevik Party, a radical Communist group that emerged in Russia during the time, set his house ablaze for failing to accept their party's ideals. All members of the Demjancik family were killed in the fire except for my great-great-grandfather, who was hiding out in a tree house at the time. Left all alone, the 9-year-old boy met with the only family he had left, his aunt and uncle. Together they walked, yes walked, all across Russia, Poland and Europe in order to find a way to the United States. Two years later, Tomas, and his aunt and uncle had finally arrived at the Promised Land that was Ellis Island.

Tomas Demjancik went on to be a barrel-maker working in an Exxon refinery for many years. In addition, he represented the Exxon refinery employees as their shop steward, and worked in a pickle factory during the night hours. He also had 9 children. 

When I look at this quarter, I do not see nameless caricatures carved into it. I see a snapshot of my great-great-grandfather with his aunt and uncle arriving on Ellis Island. After hearing this story again, it has reaffirmed my perspective of American citizenship as both a privilege and responsibility. It is because of a young boy named Tomas that I have the privilege to call myself an American citizen today. However, it is Tomas' life in the United States that shows that citizenship is as much a responsibility as it is a privilege. As a shop steward, he represented his fellow workers and ensured that their rights and issues were adhered to by the company's management. Selected by his peers, he would advocate for their needs and desires during a time when big businesses tried to restrict their worker's ability to protest. We have an obligation as Americans to engage in local, state and federal politics in order to better the community. Tomas Demjancik is a prime example of what it means to be an American citizen in my eyes.

As a society, we must honor our ancestors for gifting us with the privilege to be a citizen of this great nation. However, it is our duty to uphold the responsibilities that come with citizenship to ensure that our family member's journey to the United States was worth all of the blood, sweat and tears.